


Reorganization

by orphan_account



Category: Giant Robo
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After deciding that Go has been working too hard, Chief Chujo helps him relax.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a yaoi doujinshi with some scenes and dialogue added.

“Argh!”  Ginrei’s frustrated cry came as she dug through yet another cardboard box of files.  Professor Go winced and tried to ignore her.

“The chief needs to sign this one before we store it,” he murmured to himself as he tucked a folder under his arm.  Go and Ginrei both had been assigned the duty of reorganizing the Peking base’s library of files.  It was a menial task, but not one that Go minded.  He was exhausted, certainly, but he wasn’t about to complain—especially since they were doing this particular bit of sorting in Chief Chujo’s office.

Ginrei, unfortunately, had no such qualms.

“But Kenji just finished his mission, and he has to go back to Paris first thing in the morning!” she griped as she opened another box.  “We were going to go on a date tonight, but now that I don’t have time off. . . .”

“I’m sorry, Ginrei,” Chujo finally interrupted from where he was seated behind his desk.  “Sometimes even Experts have to do work like this.”  Go couldn’t see the chief’s eyes through his dark glasses, but Chujo’s face looked stern enough as he added, “ _I_ had other business to handle besides reorganizing the library.”

Ginrei took the hint, and she gave the chief an apologetic smile as she picked up a stack of binders.  “I understand.  It’s just. . . well, not everyone is like you and Professor Go, able to work all the time without any vacation!”

“I can’t take time off to have fun!” Go replied as he scooped up twice as many files as Ginrei was carrying.  Silently, he added, _The commander might think I was slacking off!  I couldn’t stand to disappoint him. . . ._   Still, he felt sorry for Ginrei.

“Ginrei, I’ll arrange the files,” Go told her as they carried their stacks from Chujo’s office to the library.  “You go out with Kenji tonight.”

“Okay!” Ginrei accepted gratefully—and quickly, as if she were afraid Go might change his mind.

_I don’t blame her,_ he thought about halfway down the hall to the library. _I’d hate to cancel too I ever had a date with. . . with the one I love. . . ._   Go was so distracted by that thought that he trod on the edge of his robe.  He gave an undignified squawk as he fell with that helpless feeling of knowing there was nothing he could do to stop his descent.

“Professor Go!” Ginrei cried, hurrying to his side as quickly as she could with her binders.  “Are you all right?”  Go was far more worried about the condition of his files, which were now scattered all over the floor.

“Oh, now they’re all out of order,” he fretted, fumbling to gather them up.

“Are you okay?” Ginrei persisted.  “You’re awfully unsteady today!”

“S-sorry, Ginrei,” Go murmured.  He glanced up at her as he picked up another paper, only to slice its edge against his finger.  “A-ah, that hurts!” he yelped involuntarily.

“Now what’s wrong?” demanded Ginrei.

“Just a paper cut.”  Humiliated, Go stuck his sore finger in his mouth.

“Geez, you’re so careless today!”  Ginrei set down her files and produced a Band-Aid from some hidden pocket of her Chinese dress.  “Here, I’ve got a bandage.”

“Thanks.”  As Go busied himself with putting it on his wounded finger, Ginrei gave a huffy sigh.

“This is terrible,” she accused.  “You don’t get enough sleep, and you work far too hard.  I’m going to tell the chief you need a day off!”

Go felt his face flush with embarrassment.  The last thing he wanted was a day off, much less a day off at _Ginrei’s_ request, as if he were too shy to ask for it himself.

No, he changed his mind, the _absolute_ last thing he wanted was for Chujo to know he had tripped over his own robe and given himself a paper cut.

“I’m all right,” he tried to reassure Ginrei, holding his fan up to hide his blush.  “It’s not necessary for you to talk to the chief.”

Ginrei gave him a puzzled look, then shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”

\--

When Chief Chujo left his office late that evening, he was surprised to see a light on in the library, shining out from beneath the closed door.  Ginrei had left some time ago, which meant only one thing. . . but Chujo found it hard to believe that even Go would have stayed this late.

Still, when he eased the door open, he found the professor bent over a desk, where Go was busily sorting papers.  _He’s working far too hard,_ Chujo thought as he watched, trying to suppress the usual pang of desire he felt when he looked at Go.  It was always especially strong on nights like this, after Chujo had spent a long day working.  Seeing Go slightly bent over, a position that pulled his robe tight across his backside, didn’t help.

“Professor Go,” Chujo said softly.  Go jumped and glanced at him over his shoulder with a little smile; then he turned right back to his work.

“Good evening, chief.”

Chujo took a last drag off his pipe.  “This is slow work. . . .  You’ve done enough for today.”

“All right. . . for now,” Go relented.  “It _is_ late, sir. . . and I’m a little tired.”

Chujo tapped the ashes out of his pipe, then set it aside when he noticed a bandage on one of Go’s fingers.  _I **knew** he was overly tired.  He’s hurt himself somehow. . . ._   Chujo grasped the professor’s right wrist to examine the injury.

“Professor Go. . . your hand.”

“A-ah!”  Go made a nervous little noise and flushed as he tried to smile.  “It’s just a little paper cut.”

_He keeps acting like this lately.  Every time I’m near him, he seems so jittery._   Chujo had attributed it to Go working too hard, but right then, knowing that they were alone on the base and feeling Go’s wrist trembling in his grip. . . .  Chujo’s desire flared up in him, refusing to be ignored this time.

_But what if I’m wrong, and he doesn’t feel the same way about me?_ the chief scolded himself.To buy some time in which he could judge Go’s reaction, Chujo peeled the bandage off the professor’s finger and examined the small cut.

“Ah. . . chief?” Go ventured, looking more and more nervous.  “What. . . .”

_I’m **not** wrong._   Chujo knew it just by the tone in Go’s voice.  Hiding a smile, he brought the professor’s finger to his mouth, sucking it inside and biting down on it lightly.  Go screeched as if Chujo had bitten the finger completely off.  Chujo pulled it from his mouth with a little smile and kissed it instead.

“Careful,” he murmured.  “An Expert shouldn’t be so easily injured.”  He drew his tongue over Go’s finger, then trailed kisses down the back of his hand.  Go stared at him like a hunted rabbit.

“Er. . . let go, please,” the professor whimpered, shaking all over.  “What. . . .”

The tremble of Go’s hand against his lips was all Chujo could stand.  He grasped Go’s wrist firmly and pressed him against the desk, then slipped his left arm around Go’s waist to hold him there.

“A-ah!” Go cried, trembling harder against Chujo’s body as his cheeks flared.  “Chief, you shouldn’t. . . .” he protested.

“Why?  Is this wrong?” Chujo whispered against the professor’s ear, telling himself at the same time, _If he means it, I’ll stop, but. . . I don’t think he means a word._

“Chief,” Go stammered, apparently unable to form a complete sentence.  “Someone—”  He broke off in a moan as Chujo slipped his hand along Go’s chest, pushing it under his robe.

“Everyone else has left,” the chief whispered reassuringly.  He held Go’s injured hand tightly in his right hand as he massaged the professor’s chest with his left.  When Chujo brushed his thumb along Go’s clavicle, he elicited another moan from the professor.  As Chujo pressed closer behind him, Go trembled harder, and just the feeling of his body shaking was enough to make Chujo’s cock start to stiffen.

Chujo pressed his lips to Go’s ear, brushing it as he spoke.  “Give in. . . Go-kun.”  It was the first time he had addressed Go so affectionately; he accompanied the words by pulling his left hand away from Go’s chest and moving it downward instead.

Go whimpered beneath Chujo, clenching his hands on the desk and crumpling some of the papers scattered there as the chief’s hand brushed his groin.  Even through Go’s layers of clothing, Chujo could feel that he was already hard.

_He **does** want it—he wants it as badly as I do!_   Grinning to himself, Chujo brought his other hand up to Go’s face, pushing his fingers between the professor’s lips into the wet warmth of his mouth.  Go moaned around them as Chujo probed his mouth and imagined how it would feel pressing kisses all over his body.

“Good boy,” Chujo whispered as he squeezed Go’s erection.  “You haven’t made yourself come in a while, have you?”  Go, of course, didn’t answer except in moans.  That was enough for Chujo; he released the professor’s cock and clenched his hand in a fist instead.  He could hardly bite back a groan of his own as he felt his power surge through his fist, coating it in the viscous liquid that preluded his own secret attack.  Chujo had fantasized about this countless times, about using the byproduct of his power on Go and coating him with the fluid before releasing an entirely different sort of “attack” on the professor.  Chujo put his dripping hand to Go’s leg, pushing it up under his robe.  His grin grew as he made his way up to Go’s ass—his _bare_ ass.

_He’s not such a good boy after all, wearing nothing under that robe of his!_   Chujo drew his hand higher, pressing two fingertips against Go.  He heard Go gasp around Chujo’s other hand, then give a sharp cry as Chujo pushed his wet fingers inside him to the second knuckle.

“ _Nnnnnhh!_ ” Go moaned, tensing up all over.  Chujo held his fingers there until Go relaxed, slumping over the desk on tiptoe.  Chujo pulled his other hand free of Go’s mouth, wanting to hear the professor’s soft voice clearly as he moaned.

“Chief,” Go moaned as Chujo began to slide his fingers in and out.  “Ch-chief!”  His legs trembled, barely able to support his weight as Chujo fingered him faster.  Chujo’s own heart began to race at the sound of Go’s voice crying out for him.

“Go-kun,” he whispered, “your hand. . . .”  He grasped Go’s right hand in his own free hand and brought it to his mouth, biting and kissing Go’s fingers.  They trembled in his mouth, but not nearly as much as the professor’s body trembled around Chujo’s own fingers.

“I can feel how lascivious you are,” he whispered as he sucked on Go’s finger.  He thrilled at Go’s responsive moaning and trembling, and he pushed his two fingers in deeper, all the way to the base.  Go groaned with pleasure, even as he tried to protest.

“I’m embarrassed—” the professor began, but he broke off in a cry as Chujo pressed his fingers against his prostate.  “There, ch-chief. . . ,” Go groaned, leaning so far over the desk that his robe fell from his shoulder as Chujo licked eagerly at his wrist.

Go’s moans grew louder and more ecstatic as Chujo thrust his fingers in and out faster.  Chujo finally let Go’s hand go and used his arm to brace himself on the desk instead so that he could hover over Go and admire him.  Go half-turned under him and looked up at him.

“Ch-chief,” he whimpered between moans.  “Do. . . do you really like seeing me like this. . . b-beneath you?”  For an instant, Chujo was stunned to the point of stopping the motion of his fingers.  He had never seen Go look so beautiful before, with his flushed cheeks and hair falling messily from his braids.

But it was more than that: Chujo was most struck by the tone of Go’s voice, so disbelieving that Chujo could want him.  _As if I could want anyone else!_ Chujo thought, his heart pounding almost painfully.  _When I love you so much. . . ._

“It looks that way,” Chujo murmured when he got control of himself a moment later.  He resumed the thrusting of his fingers and reached under Go’s robe in the front with his other hand.

“Y-you mustn’t,” Go whimpered as Chujo closed his hand over his cock.  “N-not there. . . .”  Chujo ignored his protests and began to pump him in his fist, his hand moving easily over the flesh wet with the professor’s precum.

“How is it, Professor Go?” Chujo whispered teasingly as he worked Go faster with both hands.

“I-it’s no good,” came the gasped reply.  “It’s— _dirty_ —!”  The pleased moan that sounded afterwards belied Go’s words, as did the response of his body: his cock was already throbbing in Chujo’s hand, and he tensed harder and harder around the chief’s fingers.

“Is there something you want?” Chujo coaxed as Go’s moans came faster.  Of course he already knew the answer: _He wants to come—he needs it!_   The chief pressed closer against Go, driving his fingers into him deeply as he rubbed the head of his cock with his thumb.

“ _Aaaaah!_ ” Go screamed as his cock erupted in Chujo’s hand.  His whole body shook as he shot against the desk, so much that Chujo knew he really _hadn’t_ come in a while.  Go clenched hard around Chujo’s fingers as he came; then he collapsed against the desk, still tensing weakly as he finished.

“Hm, now the floor’s all dirty,” Chujo teased as he looked down admiringly.  “So are you going to get that rest you need?”  Go didn’t answer; instead, he clutched at Chujo’s arm as his legs gave way and he sank to the floor.

“H-hahh,” he panted as he fell to his knees.  “I can’t stand up. . . .”  Go leaned against the front of the desk, shaking and pulling at his robe, trying far too late to cover himself.  Chujo looked down at him, his chest heaving with excitement as his eyes moved over Go’s wet, trembling body.

_I’ve exhausted him—he can’t even move!_   The thought made Chujo’s cock throb even more insistently.  His eyes fell on Go’s ass, wet from Chujo’s hand.  Almost before he knew what he was doing, Chujo  bent and scooped Go up in his arms, lifting him up to lie on his back across the desk.  Go stared up at the chief as Chujo fumbled to unzip his pants, then leaned over the professor.

“It’s like everyone here says,” he hissed.  He looked Go over lustfully, admiring his already defiled body before pressing the head of his swollen cock against him.  “I’m not very patient.”

“Nnngh!” Go cried out as Chujo thrust inside him.  The chief watched eagerly as his cock disappeared completely inside the professor’s body, sliding in slickly without any resistance.  Go clutched at his robe, even now trying to cover himself, and pressed the back of his other hand to his mouth in a vain attempt to suppress his cries.

Go’s chest, bare where his robe had fallen open, heaved for breath as he moaned with each of Chujo’s thrusts.  Chujo held one of Go’s legs up with his right hand, and pushed his left hand up under Go’s robe to massage the professor’s cock and balls as the commander fucked him harder and harder.  Go’s cries were echoed by a few of Chujo’s own; the feeling of the professor’s hot, slick body trembling around him was exquisite.

“Nngh, ahhh!” moaned Go around his hand.  Chujo looked down at the pale, delicate hand, the long fingers curled up with pleasure, and was nearly overwhelmed with love for its owner.  He grasped Go’s wrist and pulled the wet hand away from the professor’s mouth; the back of Go’s hand was marked with a circle of red marks from his teeth.

“Again. . .” Chujo murmured.  Chujo clasped the wounded hand and pressed his lips to Go’s fingers, even as his thrusts coaxed more moans from the professor.  “You’ve left a wound.”  Chujo leaned over him and held Go’s leg farther up to drive into him even deeper; then he sucked Go’s finger into his mouth and bit at it again.

“Ahh, chief!” Go wailed; then his words dissolved into cries of pleasure as he came a second time.  His orgasm was weaker this time, but the tensing of his muscles around Chujo’s cock was more than enough to drive the chief into coming with him.  Go wasn’t the only one who hadn’t come in a while, and Chujo

shot several times into Go’s ass.

Chujo held himself inside Go until they had both finished, then slowly pulled out.  Go whimpered at the sensation, then gasped and pressed both hands between his legs as Chujo’s cum began to leak out of him.

“I-it’s spilling,” he whimpered, flushing deeply.  The sight was almost enough to arouse Chujo all over again, but Go’s embarrassment was touching as well.

“A-ah,” murmured Go as Chujo took his hand again and drew it away from Go’s body.

“Professor Go,” Chujo whispered as he pressed his lips to the professor’s shaking, wet fingers, “ _Now_ are you going to rest?”

Go managed to answer in between pants for breath.  “Yes. . . .”

\--

Chujo awoke even earlier than usual the next morning.  His back and legs were also stiffer than usual, but he ceased to care the instant he remembered just _why_ he was stiff.  Chujo turned his head to find Go sleeping soundly beside him.

The professor was curled on his side facing Chujo, his face relaxed and lips curled in a soft smile.  The crumpled sheets were pulled up to his waist, and his body above them wasn’t quite so peaceful as the professor’s face: his chest was covered with abrasions and light bruises from the desk, and the hand curled on the pillow had bite marks on every finger.  Chujo felt a little guilty at having hurt the fragile professor. . . but then Go had certainly seemed to like it at the time.

Chujo was about to let himself go back to sleep when he remembered the condition in which they had left the desk.  He swallowed a groan and eased himself out of bed, careful not to wake Go.  Chujo shrugged into a robe and slipped out of his suite into the hall.  Chujo’s rooms, like most of the other Experts’ quarters, were located in a dormitory area of the base, so it didn’t take him long to reach the library.

The chief cleaned up the library as quickly as he could; to his relief, most of the papers on the desk were salvageable.  After the evidence of their encounter was removed, Chujo hurried back to his suite.  Go was still asleep, but he stirred as Chujo got back into bed beside him.

“Chief. . . ?” Go murmured, looking up at him drowsily.  Right away, the professor’s cheeks flushed and he looked down again in embarrassment.

“Good morning, professor,” Chujo whispered.  He put his fingertips under Go’s chin and tilted it up to make Go face him again.  “Did you rest well?”

“I. . . .”  Go’s eyes were frightened as they began to fill with worried tears.  “We shouldn’t have. . . .”

“Shh.”  Chujo bent his head to silence Go’s trembling lips with a kiss; then he took the professor’s hand and caressed it.  “Go.  Tell me again.  How was it?”

“It. . . .”  Go’s voice fell to barely a whisper.  “It was wonderful.”

Chujo smiled and kissed him again before murmuring, “Then there was nothing wrong about it.”

\--

“Good morning, Professor!”  Ginrei’s cheerful voice startled Go later that day as he was working in the library.  “Did you stay late yesterday?”  Go looked up from his work to see the girl smiling at him sweetly.

“Oh, haha,” Go laughed nervously.  He lifted his fan to his face, forgetting all about his hand, which now bore quite a collection of Band-Aids.

“What happened?” gasped Ginrei, staring at it.  “You’ve got more bandages!”

“This. . . .” Go began, then broke off as he realized he had absolutely no idea of what to say.  He looked away, feeling his face flush hotly.  “Um. . . .”

“Well?” Ginrei demanded.

“I’m not telling!” Go finally blurted out.

Ginrei was not used to being told no, especially by men, and she demanded, “What?  That sounds fishy!”  Before Go could respond, she pounced on him, grabbing his robe and pulling at it.

“Ginrei!  Stop—” Go protested, but it was too late: she pulled his robe open across his chest to reveal the bruises and scrapes—and a couple bite marks—all over it.  “Uh. . . I guess you have your answer,” Go finally finished weakly.

Ginrei just gaped at him for a moment; then she positively screamed, “ _Chief!_ ”  Go felt the blood drop right of his face as he wondered, _How did she know?!_ He prayed fervently that Chujo wouldn’t hear her, but the commander pushed open the door to the library a moment later.

“Ginrei!  What—”  Chujo broke off when he saw them, and Go saw his throat work as he swallowed hard.  “What’s happened?”

Go braced himself for Ginrei’s accusations, but instead, she cried, “Something’s happened to Professor Go!”  Before Chujo could say anything, she turned back to Go and demanded, “Why aren’t you taking better care of yourself?  You’re so worn out, you’ve—you’ve hurt yourself in all _kinds_ of ways!”  
  
“I. . . uh . . . .”  Go looked up at Chujo for help.  He saw the chief’s mouth twitch nervously.

“And you!”  Ginrei suddenly rounded on Chujo.  “You let Professor Go keep working when you can see how exhausted he is!  You have to tell him to take a day off!”

“Ah, Ginrei, I. . . I’ll have a talk with him.”  Chujo rubbed the back of his neck as Go tugged his robe closed again.  “Uh, here, professor, come to my office and we’ll discuss this.”

“Y-yes sir,” Go stammered gratefully.  He was almost out the door when something else occurred to Ginrei.

“Wait, Professor!” she demanded.  “Just how did you bite yourself on the chest?”

\--

The End


End file.
